Mockery
by Fear The Pika
Summary: It's so illogical, isn't it? Happy belated birthday, Indigo Hare


Yeah, not something really real, just a quick birthday present to Indigo Hare, as well as an attempt to get Fawkes to smile. R&R please, and enjoy. Pika~

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><p><strong>Mockery<strong>

Falling, spinning: a leaf in a hurricane. Endless blackness spread out around him like the blanket of death, swallowing eternity, then went back for more. Inner pain- from what?- tore at his chest, gnawing at his heart: sorrow, confusion, helplessness. All were present for role-call: unwanted troops of the emotional war that raged inside of him. The blackness overtook him, and then he was lost.

"We'll restore your Pokémon to full health."

_Ding ding da da ding!_

"We hope to see you again soon! Really. Really. Soon."

Killian awoke to a red-headed nurse looming over him, a manic grin plastered across her face. He shivered, but not from the icy linoleum that he was lying on. The teen jumped off of the floor, warily eying the still-smiling nurse.

"I don't have any Pokémon," he cautiously said, edging backward toward the door. "What are you talking about? And where am I?"

"Oh, you don't?" the nurse asked in a voice sweeter than honey-coated Skittles, completely ignoring Killian's question. "Then you'll be back _really _soon!"

Maybe it was waking up with no idea as to where he was that made Killian turn and flee without another word, or maybe it was the cold, lifeless stare from the nurse that unnerved him. Regardless of what it was, Killian was glad for the primordial instinct that drove him from the building and told him to never look back, even as the nurse called after him.

"We hope to see you again soon!"

And Killian ran. Five running, pounding minutes later, he collapsed to his knees in a park, heart racing his rapid, shallow breaths. He stayed there for a few minutes and waited for his pulse to settle, then he looked up. Just in time to see a Zapdos incinerate an obviously low-leveled Zubat. The worst part? It was two trainers battling each other.

"What are you doing! You essentially killed your Zubat!" Killian shouted at the fried Pokémon's trainer, running over to the battlefield.

"Dude, relax. He's just knocked out! Now I'm going to use him to Fly over to the other side of Kanto, so see ya!"

The trainer stood on top of the charred, smoking corpse and looked at the sky. Killian, after getting over his surprise that there was still something left of the poor Zubat, shook his head and walked away. Talking with someone who thought they could Fly on the back of a dead Pokémon would get him nowhere. Besides, he could hear the ocean not far off, maybe he could get his bearings by the water.

"Aggron, come on out and use Surf!"

"You too, Rhyperior! Let's beat these two to Cinnabar Island!"

_Oh Mew, not again._

Killian arrived just in time to see two trainers hop onto their Pokémon and have them dash into the water, being completely submerged in seconds. A fisherman calmly watched this, much to Killian's disbelief, and he told him as such.

"Calm down, dude. They used Surf, they'll be fine!"

"But they went underwater!"

"No, that's Dive. They used Surf!"

"But they went underwater! They aren't on top of it. How is _that _Surf?"

"…Have you been sniffing a Breloom, dude?"

Disgusted, Killian started to walk away. Then, having a thought, he turned back to the fisherman once more.

"Tell me. If I was Surfing along and my head suddenly got submerged in a floating block of water, could I breathe?"

"You might want to leave now before I call the police. Of course you couldn't!"

Killian gave a moment of silence in respect for the stupid, and then ran once more, back into the woods, straight into the back of a trainer who was standing in front of a tiny sapling, knocking him over the plant.

"Dude, watch where you're going!" the trainer said, stepping back over the tree, only to stare forlornly at it again.

"Why are people always calling me 'dude'? And why are you staring at that tree?"

The trainer regarded Killian as one would eye a Rattata: complete and utter loathing.

"I don't have Cut, you idiot. I can't get around it!"

For the last time, Killian turned and ran away. Away from the idiocy, away from the nonsense, away from everything. Tripping over a rock, falling off of a cliff. The last thing he saw was a trainer on a blackened corpse, soaring far above him. And then he hit the ground.


End file.
